His Name
by Baruma
Summary: Pursued by one she doesn't love, she then falls for one she shouldn't. DHr
1. Those Eyes

Hey guys, I liked the thought of this story. To all of you who are my DBZ fans please don't panic, I'm just kinda stumped as to how to proceed. But don't worry, I'm not giving up! This story may go on in the same time frame as my other, when ever I can do it. But, here's hoping you all are pleased! Bruchan

"Ahhhh!" She ran, her scream piercing the silence. She stumbled and looked back, her hair soaked from the rain and slapping her face. But she kept on running.

Suddenly she tripped on naught but air, and went flying down on the wet cobblestones. Her chin and knees were bruised, her body covered in very wet mud.

At the chuckle behind her, she panicked, and her arms and legs began to flail around in the air in the direction of her assailant. He only grinned, his slightly yellow teeth gleaming in the faint light of the streetlamps. His body fell heavily on her, and nearly smothered the breath out of her body.

As his face neared hers, she lashed out and bit him hard on the chin with her sharp little teeth. They sank in deep, blood gushing out and down her neck. His large filthy hand reached up and grabbed a hank of her hair, and pulled it viciously until her mouth left his face with a wail. 'Those beady eyes…'

"My Precious," He grinned manically, and his big elbow bruised her chest. The blow left her gasping for air, and as her mouth opened to breathe, his fat slimy tongue slipped into her mouth like a snake. She coughed, trying to dislodge it from her throat, but it seemed stuck from the size. One hand wandered down and caught the apex of her legs. Her skirt was thin and wet, and seeing as she had worn no panties that night, her sex was open to his fingers.

Her tears mingled freely with the rain on her face as she tried to free herself from him, but to no avail, as he was more than her size and strength. Cruelly his fingers groped her as his mouth attacked her breast. Her nails were digging unforgivingly into his flesh while her skirt was being torn open.

Her voice began anew its screaming trial, but it seemed as if no one heard. She panicked as she heard his belt undo and his zipper unzip. The crying began in earnest at the futility of her fighting, and that her first time, as special as she viewed it, was about to be taken by one not of her choosing.

Suddenly his body slumped heavily down atop hers. Her fingers were clawing at his body when it was heaved off of hers and she could breathe once again. She was laying sprawled eagle on the stone road, wet through and muddy, her skirt ripped and showing the almost stolen prize.

A man was standing above her, glancing down at her body in quiet appraisal. She was scared that he had saved her only to bring about her downfall. But he did not, as she had expected him to, begin to remove his pants. Instead he knelt beside her and covered her body with his cloak.

He whispered barely discernable words of comfort into her ear, his voice so light she wouldn't have been able to tell whose it was if she had known him. His hands were large and soft as they stroked her dark wet hair. He bundled her up into his arms and began a swift walk down the road, leaving behind the man's body in the road. He cradled her as if she were his baby, kissing her wounds, petting her small, shivering body.

Suddenly they came upon a house she knew, with its swaying form and mass additions. He carried her to the door, and set her down on her feet with gentle petting and a soft kiss on her brow. Then he disappeared.

Harry opened the door to the Burrow to find a bedraggled girl wrapped in a dark black cloak. She was soaked through and shivering, her brown eyes misty.

"Hermione?" She slumped forward into his waiting arms, so warm and caring. He noticed that her skirt had gone missing, and blushed at the thought of Hermione wearing nothing on her bottom while curled up in his arms. But then his thoughts focused.

"Hermione, what's happened?" He demanded softly, but he got no response. The wet girl in his arms lay quiet, almost asleep in her dear friend's arms. Harry knew he would get nothing from her of her night, and sat content at holding her close and safe.

As he carried her slowly up to her room, her thoughts wandered. "To who do those stormy grey eyes belong to?'


	2. That Dream

Christmas Break is here! Yay! And you know what that means, only two more weeks before I get away from high school!

* * *

_I scream and cry but it won't stop. His hands all over me, pulling at my clothes. Touching me all over my body, grabbing my breast. I can feel his lips on mine, his spit running down my neck._

_Oh God someone save me!_

Harry Potter, otherwise known as the-boy-who-lived-and-survived, slammed open the door, the loud bang causing the screaming to stop. Hermione was sitting hunched over in her bed, panting heavily.

"Mione, please talk to me. You've been having these nightmares off and on for the past three years, only they've gotten worse lately." Harry wrapped his arms around the shaking form as she cried into his shoulder. Soothingly he rubbed her back and made soft shushing noises, which seem to help calm the girl down.

"Come on 'Mione lets go back to bed." When she nodded reluctantly Harry stood and pulled her up with him. Slowly the pair made their way into Harry's bedroom and crawled into his bed. Hermione curled up in front of him and instantly fell asleep wrapped up in his arms.

But Harry was wide awake. 'It's been three years since that night she was attacked, and she still has nightmares because of it.' But most of the time Hermione didn't even remember having them. The only thing she noticed was that she woke up in Harry's bed. In the beginning he told her why, and now she took it all in stride, mostly ignoring the fact when she awoke in Harry's arms in his bed.

But Harry knew, and he didn't forget. Her breathing was soft and regular as she lay in front of him, her hair tickling his chest. He loved Hermione, and she loved him, but only in the most platonic way, they were best friends that knew each other inside and out, and that's the way he liked it. He hoped that one day she might a great man to love her the other way, but with her nightmares, he was sure she wouldn't be able to come close to loving a man and letting him know her so intimately.

As he lay there thinking, the sounds of her breathing were lulling him to sleep. "I love you 'Mione," he said softly as sleep overtook him.

* * *

"Good Morning Harry," Hermione said happily. Harry mumbled something under his breathe about witches in the morning as he shuffled into the kitchen still in his pajama pants. Hermione was smiling brightly over the stove in a white t-shirt that reached only half-way down her thighs. She was making pancakes.

"I hope your hungry this morning Harry!" He nodded as she place a tall stack of pancakes down in front of him with a glass of milk and a pitcher of real maple syrup that the friends had collected the year before on their vacation.

"Ron owled a few minutes ago and said that he would be by here around noon, but I sent Pig back saying that I made pancakes, so he'll probably be here soon." The two laughed at the knowledge of what the last of their trio would act like when he saw the food on the table in front of him, like an animal.

Hermione hummed and pushed a few strands of hair back behind her ear. Though it had straightened out in the last couple of years, when she first wakes up her hair is back to what it used to be, bushy and all over. Her body was lithe and strong, with wide hips and a tiny waist.

"Oiy mate, do I smell pancakes!" Ron came into the room grinning and brushing floo dust from his jacket. He was tall and lanky, his smile reaching from ear to ear and his hair shaggy and red as ever.

"Syrup?" Ron nodded and took the syrup from Harry. Drowning the pancakes in syrup, he shoveled bite after bite into his big mouth.

Harry laughed and smiled at Hermione, his emerald eyes lighting up at the site of his two best friends. Hermione ruffled his disheveled black hair and winked at him as she brought more food to the table.

When she left the room to go shower and dress, Harry turned towards Ron, concern written all over his face.

"It happened again last night Ron." Ron grimaced upon hearing what Harry said.

"Just like before?"

"Yup. And she still doesn't remember dreaming anything. She scared me last night, screaming like he was there in her room. When I ran in the room I saw her thrashing about in her bed, looking like she could hurt herself."

"She in your bed again?"

"Of course, you know she can't sleep with out one of us once she's had the dream."

The boys mulled over the problem as they ate and waited for Hermione to finish her shower and dress. Twenty minutes later a fully dressed Hermione bounced down the stairs and into the Kitchen and grimaced when she saw Ron.

"Ronald Weasley, where is your napkin!"

"Aww come on 'Mione, I don't need a napkin." She scowled and the two bickered back and forth, but betrayed a sense of amusement behind the whole thing.

"Well, I'm a grown man so you can't tell me what to do!" Hermione stuck her tongue out at Ron and Harry laughed, grabbing her hand and rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

"Well, if you two don't stop then we'll never get out of this house to go shopping." Ron groaned ad Hermione smiled gleefully. And so they were off, shopping to make their dear 'Mione happy.


End file.
